


Masterpiece ➳nomin

by babyw0npil



Category: NCT (Band)
Genre: Art, First work - Freeform, I Tried, M/M, NCT Dream - Freeform, art enthusiast jaemin, english isn't my first language i'm sorry, i should be sleeping it's three am, idk how this works, nct - Freeform, uwu, van gogh
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2019-01-02
Updated: 2019-01-02
Packaged: 2019-10-02 13:39:22
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,068
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/17265182
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/babyw0npil/pseuds/babyw0npil
Summary: Jaemin goes to an art exhibition and falls for the prettiest masterpiece in the room, Jeno.





	Masterpiece ➳nomin

**Author's Note:**

> this is my first work and english isnt my first language so please please bear with me i try my best i swear and idrk how ao3 works just yet so yeehaw

Jaemin had finally decided to go on his own to the Van Gogh exposition they were having in the museum city centre. After begging his friends for weeks, he thought that would be the only solution; after all, the exposition was going to last just for so long, so if he were to wait more time it might have been too late. So that Sunday morning he woke up, had breakfast and got ready to go in the city centre. Before leaving the house he made sure he had his camera, a sketchbook and other essentials in his little backpack; he then proceeded to lock the apartment and direct himself towards the subway station.  
  
As he sat in the subway waiting for his stop, which was going to take about ten minutes, he thought of scrolling his instagram feed; nothing was particularly interesting, none of his friends had posted and the other people he followed didn’t post anything that caught his attention so, with a bored and somewhat bitter expression, Jaemin locked his phone and looked around him, impatiently waiting to arrive to the museum he was led to.  
  
The journey didn’t take long and he also couldn't complain about the wonderful weather he was walking under, as it was a wonderful spring day. He finally reached the museum, which he entered after showing his ticket, and was immediately surrounded by many and many paintings he had always admired from the book about Van Gogh some friends of his gave him for his birthday.  
  
The young man had grown to love art since his early years, he would always hold a brush and paint on any surface he could find; as he grew older, he developed an unconditioned love for paintings and artist that went beyond simply admiring the work of art, if he saw a painting he really liked, he always spent hours researching any little information he could find about it. Jaemin was fascinated by art and anything that had to do with the process of creating a painting.  
He particularly loved Van Gogh, he thought it was mesmerising how such a troubled person could channel his pain and passion in just a small painting, and if he could talk about him for an endless amount of time, he would.  
  
With a mouth slightly opened out of astonishment, he went through every painting they had in the hall, he made sure to observe every paint stroke and every little detail, reading the little description situated under the painting as well. He also made sure to capture the little details he thought were beautiful with his camera, so that he could always see what the book he had at home couldn't portray.  
  
When he was almost done, he took some steps back to admire all paintings from afar; the hall wasn't crowded at all, it was just eleven in the morning and the ambiance was quite cosy, with no loud children to be seen or heard and just a bunch of people who admired Van Gogh as much as he did.  
As he was about to leave, there he saw him.  
Standing between “Wheat field with Crows” and “the Starry Night” was a tall, dark haired young man with very strong facial features yet such an angelic aura. All of a sudden, to Jaemin, Van Gogh didn’t matter all that much anymore, he was focused on the sparkly eyes with which the tall guy looked at the paintings hanging on the walls.  
  
An impulse almost made him walk up to said guy to talk to him and ask for his number, he had never had problems with talking to somebody, he always thought that failing at something was much better than never trying and regretting it. But that day, he just couldn't build the courage and his legs wouldn't allow him to walk up to the stranger.  
Instead, he just watched as a boy approached him, took the stranger’s hand into his and walked away.  
  
Jaemin sighed and shook the thought of the stranger away from his mind, it was so silly of him to project so many illusions in his mind, “it’s not like I’m in a film or something” he said to himself.  
He gave the paintings another glance before leaving them all behind and walking out of the museum, with a feeling of immense happiness, for finally being able to see Van Gogh’s painting up close, and a tinge of sadness, as he wished he had grown a pair and talked to the stranger.  
The next couple of weeks weren't easy for Jaemin, he had his exams coming up, he was busy with some paintings he had been commissioned to do but most importantly, he couldn’t stop thinking of the stranger he saw at the museum.  
One day he sat down in front of a canvas, finally somewhat motivated to get the painting done by the deadline approaching. He grabbed his brushes and his colours and he got started with a playlist of relaxing songs playing in the background and a cup of tea sitting on the ground next to him.  
He did manage to get something done, in fact, he was almost done when he started losing focus. His mind suddenly started hovering all over the place and all of a sudden he found himself staring at some oil from the paint dripping down the canvas.  
  
The sudden realisation that the image of the stranger from the other day he had in his head was fading almost scared him, he didn’t want to forget him, he didn't want to forget one little detail from what he had seen.  
He rapidly grabbed a little journal and his pencil, starting to sketch the stranger’s face as accurately as he could on the little notepad he had found on his desk.  
  
Once he was done he started admiring what he had done; he wasn't sure it was accurate and he wasn't sure whether the stranger actually looked like the sketch or if that was just his imagination playing with the small amount of details Jaemin remembered, but he was satisfied nonetheless and decided to draw more sketches of the stranger, as he found it to be soothing and brought him a bit of joy.  
  
Jaemin never saw the stranger again, but he never stopped drawing him either —or at least, what he remembered of him.


End file.
